


Silver Bells and Cockle Shells

by evieeden, RemingtonFae



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2017, Gardening as Therapy, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Supportive Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieeden/pseuds/evieeden, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemingtonFae/pseuds/RemingtonFae
Summary: You can bury a lot of troubles by digging in the dirt.Or, Bucky discovers that gardening is the best kind of therapy (plus you get tomatoes).





	Silver Bells and Cockle Shells

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the 2017 Cap RBB, inspired by the gorgeous gardening Buckys (in various poses) created by RemingtonFae :)
> 
> Thanks to the lovely glitteratiglue for beta-ing. She is a total star, so any mistakes left over are all my own. I also haven't identified any major triggers, although there is a brief mention of poisoning using hemlock.
> 
> Any mistakes talking about gardening are also my own. I basically spent a weekend wandering around my ma's garden trying to work out what was what and then relied on the internet (including using a helpful English-American vegetable dictionary) to help me with the rest.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it and thanks so much for reading.

Steve was gone again.

Despite Bucky knowing this, it didn’t make him miss him any less. So far the other man was the only thing familiar in the world and Bucky wasn’t ashamed to admit that he clung to him like a limpet.

So when he was gone, it left him rather…bored and lonely.

He wasn’t confined to this place anymore, the Avengers Compound, or whatever Stark and Maria Hill were calling it nowadays, but he definitely preferred staying in its grounds, conveniently located in the middle-of-nowhere, New York. It was comforting that everything anyone could want was either here or could be brought here by the might of Stark’s seemingly bottomless pockets. Comforting that he didn’t have to venture away from the sanctuary he had found here.

He had tried it once, soon after his house arrest had officially ended – going into the nearest town and pretending that he was a normal man who hadn’t seen the horror of a World War and then been subjected to endless torment, blood and death over seventy-five years.

He had ended up wedged between a dumpster and the wall of an alley, his hands pressed over his ears, eyes squeezed shut, as he tried to block out the people walking not ten-feet way on the street.

It was just that this new world, this new time, was all so… loud.

Everyone spoke at the top of their voices, struggling to be overheard, and there were so many more people. They crowded around, in buildings and in the street, pushing and shoving and clawing and grasping.

It wasn’t that he was prisoner, it’s just that he was better off staying here. Calmer. Less likely to pull out a knife and start attacking anyone who looked at him for too long who might be Hydra.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t wish to go outside sometimes. Just…he didn’t want to go outside.

That didn’t mean he could spend the time lurking around inside though. He had been wandering the halls of the compound for the last five days trying not to look too pathetic, but after Hill glared him out of the control room three times that morning and a scientist he had seen several times while passing the labs frowned sympathetically at him, he chose to loiter around outside instead, where he wouldn’t have to interact with anyone.

Outside was… surprisingly bare.

For all that Stark went on about the costs of maintaining this facility, including landscaping costs, there really wasn’t anything to show for it.

Sure, there was a lot of neatly-cut grass surrounding the main building, and some kind of neatly manicured hedges lining the entrance to the driveway, but not much else. Trees surrounding the boundaries of the property and there was a small copse on the far side of the property where Steve liked to run simulated training sessions, but that was it.

There was no shelter, no cover out here, and Bucky felt incredibly exposed just wandering around.

It was a wonder no-one had noticed this obvious flaw in the design of the compound and sent a sniper to take care of a couple of the Avengers.

Then again, this probably explained why most of the Avengers – barring Steve and Sam of course, as they were both idiots – chose to engage in training scenarios inside the compound.

He turned the corner and wandered along the outside wall of the building, sticking so close to the building that his shoulder brushed along the brickwork.

Unfortunately, this meant that he nearly fell over sideways when the wall suddenly cut away to the side of him, revealing a U-shaped space in the side of the building. Bucky cursed and then steadied himself, grateful that there were no windows overlooking this side of the building where people could witness his graceless stumble.

Unlike the rest of the grounds, this section of land looked like it hadn’t been cared for at all, probably because it was squeezed between what must be the gym and the new laboratories. Although it was paved, like the rest of the path around the building, this section was overgrown and covered weeds and wildflowers, sprouting plants rising crookedly through the stone slabs. If you weren’t walking close to the building as Bucky had been, it would be almost impossible to know that this gap was there. From the side of the building, the walls looked like they ran straight down the entire width.

It was, Bucky decided, a good place to hide.

Tucked in a hidden part of the building, out of major sightlines, unless you explicitly knew what you were looking for, outside in the fresh air, far away enough from command that you couldn’t annoy anyone, but close enough that you were nearby in case of emergency.

Ducking around the corner, Bucky sat down in a corner on a warm paving slab. The breeze blew around him, tossing his hair into his face, yet despite this, he felt the most relaxed he had been for a while.

Now all Bucky needed was for Steve to get home safely.

Sitting quietly lasted all of seven minutes before the restlessness returned and Bucky’s hand crept out unbidden to yank at a handful of grass near him. His fingers easily tore the blades to shreds before he opened his hand and let the wind carry the remains away.

When it was gone, he reached out and plucked what looked like a weed from the gaps in the stone. Then another. Before he knew it the whole area surrounding him was clear of weeds, which sat in a sad little pile next to his leg.

Inexplicably, he felt a surge of anger wash over him, at the fact that this small area of land had been left – abandoned – to disappear and be overrun while the rest of the grounds were taken such good care of. The rest of the facility was pristine, unspoiled, but this patch… clearly someone thought it just wasn’t worth the effort.

But he knew…he understood…just because this space wasn’t useful to the facility or decorative or noticeable, didn’t mean it didn’t deserve to be looked after, just like everything else.

Bucky tried not to think about what it meant that he was getting so outraged on behalf of a piece of untended land.

It felt good though to have that annoyance, to have that anger, to feel something other than boredom…. Or compliance. He took it out on the rest of the weeds.

He managed to clear more than half of the space, wiping sweat off his forehead and ignoring the fact that his long-sleeved shirt was sticking to his chest and arms, when he spun around and noticed a figure standing watching him.

Bucky inwardly cursed as he automatically jumped into a defensive position, ready for attack. It had been a while since he had been caught off guard so completely, but dragging and digging the unwanted plants out of the ground had been more distracting than he thought, the repetitive action quieting the thoughts that usually ran rampant through his brain.

“Barnes.” It was the tone of voice, amused as if spoken with a smile, that identified the intruder, as he blinked the sun’s glare from his eyes.

“Hill.” He rose and affected a casual stance that he didn’t feel.

Hill studied the hill of discarded weeds he had created and the now partially-cleared stonework. He could practically see her brain whirring, trying to fit this new action into her view of him.

Not that she had much of one. Pretty much everything she knew about him came from his Winter Soldier days. All she knew about him now was that he clung to Steve like a limpet when he was there and stalked around the facility scowling and sulking when he wasn’t.

“Your hands are bleeding.”

Bucky frowned and glanced down, noticing the dried blood around the knuckles of his fingers. Some of the weeds had been rooted deep between the paving slabs and he had scraped his hands more than once on the rough edges.

“Not anymore.” The cuts were already healed.

Hill nodded, then waved her arm. “The Quinjet’s due to land in about half an hour if you want to clean up before it gets here.” She turned and began striding back to the main exit from the base.

Bucky followed docilely. Of course he wanted to clean up first, if Steve caught a glimpse of the blood on his hands…

They made it halfway around the building before Hill spoke again.

“I didn’t know you liked gardening.”

Bucky shot her a look, but she was steadfastly ignoring him, looking straight ahead with no eye contact. It encouraged him to reply more than if she had been watching him, judging him with her eyes (yes, he knew he could be paranoid sometimes).

“I don’t. I mean… I didn’t.” He stumbled over his words. “I’ve never gardened before. Not much space for a garden back before the war.”

“And not a skill I imagine Hydra would have encouraged,” Hill added dryly.

Bucky snorted gracelessly, then panicked, stepping back from Hill in case she rebuked him for his unwanted reaction. Instead, he was surprised to see a small smile on her face.

“No,” he answered shortly, hoping that was the end of the conversation. Talking to people, any people, was always hard for him. The only ones he usually interacted with outside of mission reports were Steve, Sam, Natasha and occasionally Clint, if he was lurking around. For some reason, the archer liked to pretend he was retired. Bucky didn’t understand it.

“Gardening is said to be a stress reliever,” Hill continued. “Although I’m not sure why that particular area is so overgrown in the first place.”

“People don’t take care,” Bucky replied shortly, then immediately regretted it.

Hill seemed to catch the wary look on his face because she just smiled carefully at him and then carried on walking. “No they don’t,” she agreed. “But perhaps you can.”

She strode ahead of him then without looking back, leaving him confused by her words.

Did she agree with him? Did she want him to carry on weeding? Did she want to contact the landscapers and yell at them for not doing their jobs properly in the first place?

…………………………….

He obsessed over Hill’s words, even after Steve got back and Bucky clung to him religiously until his friend reminded him that he had just returned from an active mission and needed to shower after a week beating bad guys and blowing up stuff.

He was still obsessing when after dinner, Steve pulled him, unresisting, into bed and tucked him under his chin.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Gardens,” Bucky replied immediately.

Steve let out a short bark of surprise. “Gardens?”

“Hmm.” Bucky raised a hand and began tracing out the outline of Steve’s muscles as he thought. “There’s some space, like a gap, on the east side of the building. It was overgrown. I pulled some of the weeds out. Now Hill says perhaps I can care.”

“Perhaps you can care?” A little crease appeared between Steve’s brows and Bucky reached up to rub it away. “Care about what? Care for it? Does she mean gardening? Like doing up the area?”

“I don’t know. I think she just doesn’t want me hanging around under her feet while you’re away.” Bucky pouted. “I can’t garden.”

Steve’s hand, which had been running through his hair, stilled. “Why can’t you?”

If he hadn’t been so preoccupied, Bucky would have smiled at the belligerent tone that immediately emerged the second someone told Steve he couldn’t or shouldn’t do something.

“I don’t know how.”

Steve grunted and then leaned over the edge of the bed, grabbing his phone off the bedside table. “You can always learn how. The internet’s great. So helpful.” He passed the cell to Bucky, who gripped it shakily and then returned it.

“I don’t know if I want to.”

Steve hugged him tighter and returned the phone to the table, Bucky watching the device warily as if it were a snake that might bite him.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just…maybe think about it?”

God, Bucky hated that voice. Steve’s full-of-hope-because-Bucky’s-acting-normal-for-once voice.

Still, that didn’t stop him from lying there wide awake in the middle of the night, hot puffs of breath landing against his neck from where Steve was curled up against him, imagining what he could do if he did want to.

He could set up some trellises at the front of the patch, so you would have to go through an archway to enter, like a secret walled garden or courtyard or something, and then grow roses or some-such next to them so they would wind and coil up the wooden or metal slats and keep out anyone who dared to enter with their thorns. He was sure he had seen a place like that once (he couldn’t remember where) where the roses draped over the entrance to the garden so heavily that you risked injury just to enter it, and hidden within were all manners of poisonous and dangerous plants.

If he was to do something outside though, it wouldn’t be dangerous. He had had enough of death and danger and forcefully shoving hemlock down the throats of traitors to Hydra.

No, this would be a safe place, a beautiful place. Beautiful roses – there for the scent and the atmosphere rather than their defensive capabilities.

There would be somewhere where he could sit and daydream, tucked behind one of the walls maybe, out of sight and protected, and Steve could join him sometimes with his pad and pencils. Just the two of them hidden away from the rest of the world.

And maybe some kind of water fountain…

He cut himself off at that thought. He was getting ahead of himself.

Bucky didn’t even know if he wanted to do something with the small patch of land.

But it was tempting… very tempting.

So tempting that he couldn’t stop thinking about it over the next few weeks.

Here was the chance for him to do something, to make something, to create, to grow, rather than just destroy.

But he was afraid. Afraid of doing it wrong. Afraid of messing it up. Afraid that everyone would see his efforts, turn around and then take the land away from him.

But there was something there, something that made him hope and dream.

Still, he didn’t want to get his hopes up, or rather, he didn’t want to get Steve’s hopes up. The other man had mentioned the garden several times, even going so far as to leave articles explaining how gardening was good for relaxation and equipment and plant catalogues lying around their apartment.

Bucky scowled at him when he saw those; Steve pretended he didn’t notice.

Still, that didn’t stop him from rifling through them when Steve wasn’t there. From planning. The pages of his notebooks became filled with notes on gardening, instead of notes on his past or things from the present that he wanted to record just in case. He would sit, hunched in the corner of the gym’s viewing area, scribbling information he had learned from the internet on raised beds and irrigation and seasonal flowering and growing vegetables and herbs and flowers and borders, all the while ignoring the speculative glances Steve shot him.

He didn’t do anything about it though.

Until Steve went away again.

…………………………………….

Hill lasted three days with him haunting the control room, listening out to everything on a headset – even though for now the mission was strictly recon – before she kicked him out.

“You’re depressing my team.”

Bucky stared at her. “I’m just sitting here.”

She scowled at him. “Yes, but you’re sitting there with that look on your face. Half my communications team think you’re going to murder them if this mission goes wrong and the other half think you’re going to burst out crying from missing Cap. You’re a distraction they don’t need. Out.”

She pointed towards the door and Bucky stood up slowly.

“But Steve…”

“Is currently wedged in a dugout behind some bushes, monitoring a site with minimal activity reported,” she interrupted him. “If any of that changes, I’ll let you know.”

Hill gave him a look and reluctantly, Bucky slunk towards the door, ignoring the looks the other agents were giving him.

“Barnes.” Hill stopped him before he reached the door. She scooped a bundle of keys off the side and threw them at him. He raised a hand to catch them and then frowned. What did he need keys for? Everything in the compound was automated or controlled by FRIDAY. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“The second storage unit from the right,” she answered his unspoken question. He kept staring at her, puzzled. “I suggest you pull everything up and start from scratch.”

She turned her back on him, the conversation clearly over, leaving him with more questions than answers. The only thing he could do now, especially since he had been dismissed so efficiently, was to follow her orders.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the storage unit, but it certainly wasn’t for it to be filled to the brim with gardening equipment.

There were spades and rakes, two different kinds of wheelbarrow, giant wooden railways sleepers, watering cans and hoses, gloves and shears and a stacked pile of paving slabs that Bucky had picked out for his imaginary garden in his notebooks and that had somehow made their way in front of him. It was everything he could imagine; it was everything he would need…

…it made him wonder again just how much FRIDAY was set to monitor his day-to-day actions and how much Maria Hill had been paying attention to them.

He shook his head, trying to shake off the inherent paranoia. Clearly Hill had seen him take an interest in something other than perimeter searches and Steve’s wellbeing and taken it upon herself to facilitate that interest. Despite his better judgement, Bucky really wanted to put his plans in action.

And here, right in front of him, was everything he wanted.

Well, nearly everything. There weren’t any plants in the unit, but he guessed that he could add those after he had completed all the groundwork. Steve would go into town and pick them up for him. Or maybe he could order them.

Feeling slightly more cheerful, Bucky picked up a sledgehammer and a heavy-duty spade and shut up the unit, locking the rest of the equipment out of sight. He was somewhat amused when he reached the gap between the buildings to find that Hill had temporarily fenced it off for him.

It was kind. He wasn’t used to kind, not from people who weren’t Steve.

But first things first, he needed to prep the space for his plans. Hill said to start from scratch. That meant tearing things up.

He was always good at following orders.

By the time lunchtime was rolling around, Bucky was sweating. He had managed to smash and dig up nearly half of the stones that were currently covering the garden and was now tired, aching and possibly sunburnt. He didn’t want to stop though, not when he could see the progress that he was making, not when every thud of the sledgehammer breaking up the stone quietened the voices in his mind.

Stripping his shirt off, he tossed it to one side and got back to work after a self-conscious glance around. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his arm at all, but some of the agents and scientists at the compound still stared whenever they saw the metal limb.

He was midway through digging up a particularly stubborn piece of stone when he heard someone light footed approaching. He straightened up and leaned casually against the spade as a short, slim woman wandered towards him, a plate of sandwiches in her hand. He vaguely recognised her as Thor’s girl, Dr Foster, and frowned when she veered towards him, a determined look on her face.

“Here.” She held the plate out towards him.

Bucky blinked and took the plate warily. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Jane.” The woman waved an arm, dismissing her title.

“Jane,” he agreed.

He waited. He had seen her before, of course, usually sandwiched under the Norse god’s arm, waving her hands around as she explained some scientific concept. Usually he was wary of going near the scientists in the base if he could help it, but Foster wasn’t a people-scientist as far as he could tell. Something about stars… Still, that didn’t mean he had ever had a conversation with her before.

She sat down on the pile of slabs he had managed to remove intact and answered the question he hadn’t asked. “I thought you might need lunch. Sometimes I forget to eat when Thor or Darcy aren’t around to remind me. I didn’t know if you were the same.” She brushed her hair out of her face. “Maria told me where to find you.”

“Did she?” Bucky sat down on the ground. Foster wasn’t exhibited any signs of dishonesty, so he took a bite of the sandwich. It was a kind thought. He wasn’t used to it from anyone other than Steve, but maybe, if he thought about Hill too, he just wasn’t used to noticing kindness from others.

Jane didn’t seem disturbed by his lack of talking and instead spent the time he was eating, staring around the cordoned-off space or gazing up at the sky. As soon as he had finished eating, she stood up again, and held out her hand for the plate.

“Are you planning on growing flowers?” she asked suddenly.

Bucky blinked at her and then gathered himself.

“I’m going to have raised beds,” he announced shakily. It felt strangely intimate to be sharing the plans he had made in his head with someone else. “Like a courtyard, with paths in between and a bench. I don’t know what to grow yet. I only got the garden this morning.”

Jane nodded thoughtfully, then pointed her finger to the right. “If you’re going to plant things that need lots of sun, you’ll have to construct your beds there and there.” She indicated the opposite side of the space. “Any plants that like shady areas can go over there. With the position of the walls, they won’t get much light throughout the day.”

Bucky looked at the spaces she was pointing at and then at the midday sun overhead.

“Thanks.”

She smiled at him, seeming genuinely pleased to have been able to help. “No problem. Thor’s back later. I can always send him over to help if you like – he’s good at heavy lifting.”

Bucky considered it. Normally, talking to other people was hard. They always seemed to expect something from him. However, here he was, having conversed with at least two people who weren’t Steve, and neither conversation had gone badly.

On the contrary, both talks had led to offers of help to make his garden vision come to life.

…………………………………….

Thor arrived later that afternoon and with an enthusiastic clap on Bucky’s back, began to help him pull up the remaining slabs.

He showed up the next day as well to help Bucky turn over the soil underneath and add more of the soil mix that Hill had stocked him with, before levelling it. And the next to help carry the sleepers from the storage unit and hammer corner posts for the raised flower beds into the ground.

All the while he kept up a steady stream of chatter, expounding the virtues of his fellow warriors, both on Earth and in Asgard, and sharing what he knew of growing things. This was surprisingly little, as, he explained with what looked like a blush, he had been much more interested in fighting when he was younger and so it was left to his younger brother to learn about plants and herbs from their mother. Bucky had heard all about Thor’s brother before from Steve, and Natasha when she was in a sharing mood, but he offered no judgments and allowed Thor to talk about him freely – something the god seemed to particularly appreciate. He also didn’t seem to mind the fact that Bucky hardly spoke, cheerfully carrying on the conversation one-sidedly.

With his help, Bucky had the framework for the beds and the new path constructed by the end of the week. Thor had even disappeared with the canes Bucky had found at the back of the supplies with a promise of weaving them into an archway.

When Bucky retreated back to his room that evening, covered in dirt, splinters in his hands, but a small smile on his face, he found that Steve had returned.

“Steve!” He practically bounded up to the taller man and wriggled his way into his arms, ignoring the fact that he’d probably just covered him in a layer of dirt. They could just be filthy together.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted him with a grin. “Been busy since I was away?”

Bucky blushed. “I decided to garden after all. Hill gave me supplies.”

“Bucky, that’s great.” Steve hugged him tightly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky snorted at him. “It’s just a garden.” He pulled back to frown mockingly at Steve. “You’re acting like I’ve invented penicillin or something.”

This time it was Steve’s turn to blush. “I’m just glad you have something to occupy you while I’m not around. I worry about you.”

“I know you do, punk.” Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s chest, breathing him in and thanking whichever deity kept bringing him home safely. “Hey, want to see the courtyard?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Only if you want to show me.”

“Sure, should we go now? We should go now. I’ll show you now.”

Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him through the halls of the compound and outside. As he did, he explained what he was trying to do, ignoring the widening, fond smile on his partner’s face.

“… so Jane said that I should have at least one set of plants in the shade, as that way I can get a wider range of flowers growing, and Thor’s been helping with the construction and he’s making me a trellis, because apparently weaving’s a skill that everyone learns on Asgard, so he said he would teach it to me so I can make some…”

Bucky’s voice trailed off the second they rounded the corner and found Tony Stark standing in the middle of his courtyard, dressed in one of his ridiculous suits, hands on his hips.

Steve stepped forward so he was slightly in front of Bucky and despite the fact that Bucky wanted to roll his eyes and announce that he could take care of himself, he was grateful for the defence. Stark made him nervous. Once, shortly after Bucky had moved into the compound, they had had an awkward conversation about the Winter Soldier’s involvement in Howard and Maria Stark’s death that ended with Stark throwing a lab table across the room and Bucky huddled in the corner of the room with his hands over his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. While Stark had admitted that he didn’t hold Bucky responsible for anything Hydra might have made him do, they had both agreed to never discuss the incident again, and Bucky generally tried to avoid the other man if he could help it.

Stark rolled his eyes at Steve’s gesture and turned back to the courtyard.

“So a little Asgardian tells me you’re trying to make a garden.”

Bucky blinked, but didn’t say anything.

“Tony…” Steve began, before he was interrupted.

“You’d think you would ask me before taking over and digging up part of my land,” he sniffed.

“Tony…”

“…I mean, I would assume that I would be consulted on such things in case I had any objections to Murderbot here smashing up the paving…”

Bucky’s heart began to sink. He was going to take it all away. His garden, his dream, would be gone before it even had a chance to begin.

“Tony, I don’t think…”

“…but then I find out that this was sanctioned by Hill, _Hill_ , of all people. I didn’t even think she knew what fresh air was. So I guess it can stay.”

Bucky blinked again. Steve froze, his mouth open on a protest.

Stark turned back to them, pushing those obnoxious red sunglasses back on his face, even though it was nearly dark.

“Careful, Cap, you’re catching flies there.” He looked Steve up and down. “And haven’t you heard of showering or is this a new thing where you’re going to wear your outfit all the time now? Is this a protest of some kind?”

Steve closed his mouth with an audible clack.

Stark sniffed. “Thought not.” He spun on his heel and stalked past them. “It’s a decent build, Go-Go-Gadget.”

Bucky watched him leave warily as Steve blew out a frustrated breath of air. “He’s so…” He stopped himself before he said anything else and threw his arm around Bucky’s shoulder. “Still, at least he liked it.”

Bucky fidgeted. “I’m not sure that’s what he said, Stevie.”

Steve shrugged and squeezed him. “It’s what he meant. With Tony, you have to read between the lines a little.”

“Hmmph.” Bucky was unconvinced, but cheered up when Steve prompted him to explain what it was he had done so far.

It wasn’t the largest space, but Bucky dragged Steve around every last inch of it, pointing out the work he had done and his plans. Steve followed him, smiling indulgently. He interrupted Bucky in the middle of rant about how he only wanted to use natural pesticides when he finally got around to planting anything, dragging him into a kiss that Bucky returned enthusiastically.

“What was that for?” Bucky asked when they broke apart, not that he was complaining.

“Just…I’m proud of you, for doing this.”

Bucky looked down at his feet. “It’s just a garden, Steve.”

“Yeah, but it’s something you’re making, something you’re taking the time to do.” Steve loosened his arms, but pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “I’m proud of you.”

Bucky pushed him away half-heartedly. “Shut up, you sap.”

Steve laughed. “Come on, it’ll be dark soon and I need a shower, Tony wasn’t wrong about that. I’ve got the day off tomorrow though, so I can help you out if you want?”

“Really?” Bucky couldn’t help his excitement. “That’s great, because I need to start getting the soil into the flowerbeds so I can start planting and I need to put some stones at the bottom for drainage…

Bucky was sure he was going on, excited to share his plans now he knew he could definitely keep the garden and eager to share his plans now that Steve was back and a willing listener, but he forbore Bucky’s ramblings with a smile, even if that smile got a little strained when Bucky was still talking about planting vegetables when they climbed into bed.

“…it’s a bit late to be planting beans or peas or anything, but if I start now, we could have potatoes and other root vegetables in time for Fall, and salad stuff grows quickly. I read on this forum that someone managed to grow tomatoes in just 6 weeks, but… Steve? Steve?”

Bucky shook his shoulder, but Steve remained resolutely asleep.

Taking that as a hint, Bucky settled down beside him, but got his revenge the next morning when he woke Steve up at 6am to help him garden after a quick breakfast. It wasn’t particularly early, but given that Steve had been on a mission until the previous day, it was far less sleep than he would usually have to recoup normally.

Steve submitted to it all gracefully, carrying the bags of soil mix that Bucky loaded him up with without arguing, while Bucky stalked along beside him, swinging two spades casually as he did.

They both froze when they got to the courtyard, Bucky dropping the spades.

There, in the garden, where previously there had only been the foundations of the flower beds, was a fully installed irrigation system. Drainage had been embedded at the bottom of the raised beds and pipes snaked up the sides of the sleepers, ready to water the contents of the flower beds. The pipes appeared to be connected to the side of the building that house the showers by the gym and two taps had been installed in the sides of the wall.

Bucky clasped his hands over his face, unsure how to react.

It was wonderful; it was what he’d dreamed of; it was…completely overwhelming.

“Well,” Steve dumped the bags on the ground, “looks like Tony likes your plans.”

“You think?” Bucky asked quietly, nervously.

“Absolutely.” Steve hugged and pulled back a smile on his face. “Tony’s the only one with the know-how – and the insomnia – to get this done in one night. It means he likes you.”

“Shut up,” Bucky protested lightly, pushing Steve away, but he was smiling and throughout the day, he found he couldn’t stop.

He smiled as they filled the flower beds with soil and covered it with a layer of compost; he smiled as they pegged the water pipes from the irrigation system into place; and he smiled as they constructed the bench that had magically appeared in the storage unit (he secretly suspected that Hill was rifling through his notebooks to see what she needed to order for him).

Between him, Steve and Sam, who had emerged around lunch time blinking blearily into the sun, they managed to complete all the base elements in the courtyard. Now all he needed to do was to actually get some plants in there.

…………………………….

Prior to the garden, Bucky only really spoke to people in the compound if he absolutely had to. Nearly everyone he met treated him with a mixture of wariness and pity.

Now though, he couldn’t stop people talking to him. It turned out that when it came to gardens, everyone had an opinion on what he should grow and thought nothing of stopping by the courtyard to let him know.

Steve liked the idea of him growing staples, like potatoes and carrot, while Sam expounded the virtues of cooking with your own herbs and brought him packs of mint and basil seeds.

Banner – “call me Bruce” – commented on the virtues of plants which had healing properties, which led to Bucky planting an abundance of yarrow, aloe and Echinacea to use on Steve after he was an idiot on mission, while Wanda recommended growing chillies to spice up meals. Clint surveyed the space with a practiced eye and then left with tossed out, “leafy vegetables, man. Cabbages, lettuces, arugula. They grow like weeds, even if half the plant gets eaten by rabbits or whatever.” Hill tossed him an already blooming lavender plant in a pot the next time Steve was away with a warning that it would spread everywhere if given half the chance.

Natasha also showed up once and made a comment about him needing to avoid planting any creepers, like ivy or Russian vines.

“Russian vines, huh?” he asked.

“It likes to cling,” she said with a shrug. “Digs itself in and then strangles everything in sight.”

“Sounds about right,” he mumbled, unable to help remember the twist of her legs around his neck, couple with her use of a garrotte.

She rewarded the comment with a smirk. “Us Russians have to get our fun somehow.”

Bucky had smirked back.

Thor showed up, Jane in toe, with the trellis as promised and helped Bucky plant rambling roses around it, politely asking if he could have one of the flowers when they finally bloomed once he found out that they were a symbol of love on Earth. Jane in turn brought him her own pack of seeds to plant, blushing as she did.

“You don’t have to plant them if you don’t want to, but these are my favourites, so I thought you might like them.”

Bucky looked down at the name on the packet of seeds, admiring the brightly coloured flowers on the packet: _stargazer lilies_. He nodded at her.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and accepted his offer to help plant them, uncaring when she broke her nails and got covered in dirt.

………………………………..

Gradually the garden began to come together.

Seeds were nurtured, bulbs planted and after a lot of hoping and praying, the seeds finally began to sprout.

The first time he found a green shoot poking through the earth, Bucky ran back to their quarters in the base and dragged Steve out of bed. Dragging him along behind him in his pyjamas, Bucky shoved Steve towards the flower bed in question.

Steve stared at the soil, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “What am I supposed to be looking at here, Buck?”

“The tomatoes! They’re growing!” Bucky knelt down by the flower bed and rested his head on the edge of the sleeper, staring in wonder at the tiny green plant.

“That’s great, Buck. You’ve done a really great job here.”

He had done it, he had grown something, using only his hands. It was amazing, it was incredible, he was going to cry.

Impatiently, Bucky dashed away the threat of tears from his eyes, pushing Steve away when he went to hug him in comfort.

“Shut up, Steve,” he croaked, even though the other man remained silent.

Steve backed away, hands in the air, but Bucky could tell he was grinning at him, even though he wasn’t saying anything.

…………………………………

Bucky became obsessed.

He tended his garden and the tiny plants within it as if they were his new-born babies. He loved taking care of them and watching them slowly grow. He was fixated on making sure they got enough plant food and water, but not too much plant food and water.

A couple of times, when Steve was away, he even slept out there on the bench, paranoid that if he went to bed, a frost would steal his hard work away.

Steve had just about refrained from rolling his eyes when Bucky had confessed this, but understood how much the garden to meant to him. He even didn’t complain when Bucky finally succeeded in growing some tomatoes, chillies and radishes and force-fed them to him for two weeks in a row.

It was a place where he could be quiet, where he could forget about the world outside – still too loud and too crowded – and forget about everything he had done in the past, willing or not, and forget about Steve being gone on missions, even though he still had to check him over thoroughly for injuries every time he got back.

The only thing that mattered in his garden was making sure his plants were watered and fed, that weeds were removed and deadheads pruned.

It gave him purpose.

It also, he realised with a sudden shock one day, gave him friends.

Steve was away again, destroying Hydra bases with Sam, Natasha and Stark, but unlike before, Bucky wasn’t alone.

Wanda was crouched alongside him, helping him to transfer some yellow dahlias and pink begonias, that hadn’t quite flowered yet into pots. Bruce was tending to the side of the flower bed that had unwittingly become a herb garden, while explaining the different uses of the plants to Vision, who was listening intently, and Jane, who kept getting distracted by fractal patterns or something in the flowers. Nearby, Thor was stretched along the bench, hands behind his head and legs hanging over the edge, fast asleep. Hill had dropped by earlier in the day too and thrown a new packet of beets to sow on top of the napping god, before nodding in satisfaction and disappearing again.

He was surrounded by people who cared, who helped him, not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

It made him happy, Bucky realised, really, truly happy for the first time in a long time and as the sound of the returning Quinjet soared overhead and then dispelled Steve and Natasha unhurt on the wide expanse of lawn just beyond the courtyard, he realised that it might just be enough to keep him going.

He ran to Steve and threw his arms around him, hugging him to him. Steve pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bucky breathed into his neck. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Well, good.” Steve didn’t seem to know what to do with that.

“I’m just… I’m just…” He struggled to put his feelings into words. “I’m just… My scallions finally came through.”

Steve seemed puzzled by the analogy but went with it. “I’m really happy for you, Buck. Want to show me?”

Bucky smiled at him, widely and openly. “You don’t mind.”

Steve smiled back. “No. Show me what you’ve done since I’ve been away.”

As Bucky dragged Steve all over the courtyard and Steve feigned some kind of knowledge about anything to do with gardening, he felt that warm feeling well up inside him again.

Yes. This was what happy felt like.

 


End file.
